CHAPTER XI.

DOLLY AND NABBY INVITED OUT.

Yes. Spring was coming; the little blue herald was right, though he

must have chilled his beak and frozen his toes as he sat there. But

he came from the great Somewhere, where things are always bright;

where life and summer and warmth and flowers are forever going on

while we are bound down under ice and snow.

There was a thrill in the hearts of all the children that day, with

visions of coming violets, hepaticas and anemones, of green grass and

long bright sunny rambles by the side of the Poganuc river.

The boys were so premature in hope as to get out their store of

fish-hooks, and talk of trouting. The Doctor looked over his box

of garden seeds, and read the labels. "Early Lettuce," "Early

Cucumbers," "Summer Squashes"--all this was inspiring reading, and

seemed to help him to have faith that a garden was coming round

again, though the snow banks yet lay over the garden-spot deep and

high. All day long it thawed and melted; a warm south wind blew and

the icicles dripped, so that there was a continual patter.

Two circumstances of importance in Dolly's horoscope combined on this

happy day: Hiel invited Nabby to an evening sleigh-ride after supper,

and Mrs. Davenport invited her father and mother to a tea-drinking at

the same time.

Notwithstanding her stout words about Hiel, Nabby in the most brazen

and decided manner declared her intention to accept his invitation,

because (as she remarked) "Hiel had just bought a bran new sleigh,

and Almiry Smith had said publicly that _she_ was going to have the

first ride in that air sleigh, and she would like to show Almiry that

she didn't know every thing." Nabby had inherited from her father a

fair share of combativeness, which was always bubbling and boiling

within her comely person at the very idea of imaginary wrongs; and,

as she excitedly wiped her tea-cups, she went on:

"That air Almiry Smith is a stuck-up thing; always turning up her

nose at me, and talking about my being a hired gal. What's the

difference? I live out and work, and she stays to home and works. I

work for the minister's folks and get my dollar a week, and she works

for her father and don't git nothin' but just her board and her

keep. So, I don't see why she need take airs over me--and she sha'n't

do it!"

But there was a tranquilizing influence breathing over Nabby's soul,

and she soon blew off the little stock of spleen and invited Dolly

into her bed-room to look at her new Leghorn bonnet, just home from

Miss Hinsdale's milliner-shop, which she declared was too sweet for

anything.

Now, Leghorn bonnets were a newly-imported test of station, grandeur

and gentility in Poganuc. Up to this period the belles of New England

had worn braided straw, abundantly pretty, and often braided by the

fair fingers of the wearers themselves, while they studied their

lessons or read the last novel or poem.

But this year Miss Hetty Davenport, and Miss Ellen Dennie, and the

blooming daughters of the governor, and the fair Maria Gridley had

all illuminated their respective pews in the meeting-house with

Leghorn flats--large and fine of braid, and tremulous with the

delicacy of their fiber. Similar wonders appeared on the heads of

the juvenile aristocracy of the Episcopal church; and the effect was

immediate.

Straw bonnets were "no where." To have a Leghorn was the thing;

and Miss Hinsdale imported those of many qualities and prices, to

suit customers. Nabby's was not of so fine a braid as that of the

governor's daughters; still it was a real Leghorn hat, and her soul

was satisfied. She wanted a female bosom to sympathize with her in

this joy, and Dolly was the chosen one.

Proud of this confidence, Dolly looked, exclaimed, admired, and

assisted at the toilette-trial--yet somewhat wondering at the

facility with which Nabby forgot all her stringent declarations of

the morning before.

"You don't suppose he would dare to kiss you again, Nabby?" Dolly

suggested timidly, while Nabby stood at the glass with her bonnet on,

patting her curls, shaking her head, pulling into place here a bow

and there a flower.

"Why, Dolly Cushing," said Nabby, laughing; "what a young 'un you are

to remember things! I never saw such a child!"

"But you said"----cried Dolly,--

"Oh, never mind what I said. Do you suppose I can't keep that fellow

in order? I'd just like to have him try it again--and see what he'd

get! There now, what do you think of that?" And Nabby turned round

and showed a general twinkle of nodding flowers, fluttering ribbons,

bright black eyes, and cheeks with laughing dimples which came and

went as she spoke or laughed.

"Nabby, I do declare, you are splendid," said Dolly. "Hiel said once

you was the handsomest girl in Poganuc."

"He did, did he? Well, I'll let him know a thing or two before I've

done with him; and Almiry Smith, too, with her milk-and-water face

and stringy curls."

"Did that bonnet cost a great deal?" asked Dolly.

"What do you mean, child?" asked Nabby, turning quickly and looking

at her.

"Nothing, only Mrs. Davenport said that hired girls were getting to

dress just like ladies."

Nabby flared up and grew taller, and seemed about to rise from the

floor in spontaneous combustion.

"I declare!" she said. "That's just like these 'ere stuck-up Town

Hill folks. Do they think nobody's to have silk gowns and Leg'orn

bonnets but them? Who 's a better right, I should like to know? Don't

we _work_ for our money, and ain't it _ourn_? and ain't we just as

good as they be? I'll buy just such clothes as I see fit, and if

anybody don't like it why they may lump it, that's all. I've a better

right to my bonnet than Hetty Davenport has to hers, for I earned the

money to pay for it, and she just lives to do nothing, and be a bill

of expense to her folks."

Dolly cowered under this little hurricane; but, Poganuc being a windy

town, Dolly had full experience that the best way to meet a sudden

gust is to wait for it to blow itself out, as she did on the present

occasion. In a minute Nabby laughed and was herself again; it was

impossible to be long uncomfortable with a flower garden on one's

head.

"I shall be lonesome to-night without you, Nabby," said Dolly; "the

boys talk Latin to me and plague me when I want to play with them."

"Oh, I heard Mis' Cushing say she was going to take you to the

tea-party, and that'll be just as good for you."

Dolly jumped up and down for joy and ran to her mother only to have

the joyful tidings confirmed. "I shall never leave Dolly alone in the

house again, with nobody but the boys," she said, "and I shall take

her with us. It will be a lesson in good manners for her."

It may have been perceived by the intimations of these sketches

hitherto that there were in the town of Poganuc two distinct circles

of people, who mingled in public affairs as citizens and in church

affairs as communicants, but who rarely or never met on the same

social plane.

There was the _haute noblesse_--very affably disposed, and perfectly

willing to _condescend_; and there was the proud democracy, prouder

than the noblesse, who wouldn't be condescended to, and insisted on

having their way and their say, on the literal, actual standpoint of

the original equality of human beings.

The sons and daughters of farmers and mechanics would willingly

exchange labor with each other; the daughters would go to a

neighboring household where daughters were few, and help in the

family work, and the sons likewise would hire themselves out where

there was a deficiency of man-power; but they entered the family as

full equals, sharing the same table, the same amusements, the same

social freedoms, with the family they served.

It was because the Town Hill families wished to hire _servants_,

according to the Old-World acceptation of the term, that it became

a matter of exceeding difficulty to get any of the free democratic

citizens or citizenesses to come to them in that capacity.

Only the absolute need of money reconciled any of them to taking such

a place, and then they took it with a secret heart-burning and a

jealous care to preserve their own personal dignity.

Nabby had compromised her pride in working for "the minister," for

the minister in early New England times was the first gentleman of

the parish, and a place in his family was a different thing from one

in any other.

Nevertheless, Nabby required to be guided with a delicate hand and

governed with tact and skill. There were things that no free-born

American girl would do, and Mrs. Cushing had the grace not to expect

those things. For instance, no Yankee girl would come at the ringing

of a bell. To expect this would, as they held it, be to place them

on a level with the negroes still retained as servants in some old

families. It was useless to argue the point. Nabby's cheeks would

flush, and her eyes flash, and the string of her tongue would be

loosed, and she would pour forth torrents of declamation if one

attempted to show that calling by a bell was no worse than calling by

the voice or sending out one of the children. Mrs. Cushing did not

try to do it.

Another point was the right to enter the house by the front door.

Now, as Nabby's work lay in the kitchen and as her sleeping-room

was just above, it was manifestly an inconvenience to enter by any

other than the kitchen door. Nevertheless, she had heard the subject

discussed among other girls, and had admired the spirit shown by her

intimate friend, Maria Pratt, when Mrs. Israel Deyter pointed out to

her the propriety of entering by the back door,--"Mrs. Deyter, do you

think there will be a back and a front door to heaven?"

But Mrs. Cushing avoided the solution of this theological problem

by looking on with a smile of calm amusement when Nabby very

conspicuously and perseveringly persisted in entering by the front

door the first week of her engagement with the family. As nothing was

said and nothing done about it, Nabby gradually declined into doing

what was most convenient--went the shortest way to her work and room.

Nabby was in her way and place a person worth making concessions

to, for she was a workwoman not to be despised. Her mother, Mrs.

Higgins, was one of those almost fabulous wonders of household genius

who by early rising, order, system, neatness and dispatch reduced

the seemingly endless labors of a large family to the very minimum

of possibility. Consequently there was little occasion for the

mistress of a family to overlook or to teach Nabby. When she entered

the household she surveyed the situation with trained eyes, took an

account of all work to be done, formed her system and walked through

it daily with energetic ease, always securing to herself two or three

hours of leisure every day in which to do her own cutting, fitting

and sewing. According to the maxims in which she had been brought

up, a girl that did not "do up her work in the morning," so as to

have this interval of leisure, was not mistress of her business. On

washing days Nabby's work began somewhere in the latter part of the

night, and daylight saw her flags of victory waving on the lines in

the shape of renovated linen, and Nabby with great composure getting

breakfast as on any other day.

She took all her appointed work as a matter of course. Strong, young,

and healthy, she scarcely knew what fatigue was. She was cheerful,

obliging, and good tempered, as thoroughly healthy people generally

are. There was, to be sure, a little deposit of gunpowder in Nabby's

nature, and anybody who chose to touch a match to her self-esteem,

her sense of personal dignity or independence, was likely to see a

pretty lively display of fireworks; but it was always soon over, and

the person making the experiment did not generally care to repeat it.

But Hiel Jones found this chemical experiment irresistibly

fascinating, and apparently did not care how often he burned his

fingers with it. Hiel was somewhat _blasé_ with easy conquests.

The female sex have had in all ages their spoiled favorites, who are

ungrateful just in proportion to the favors bestowed upon them; and

Hiel was in his circle as much courted and pursued with flattering

attentions as any spoiled tenor of the modern opera. For him did

Lucinda and Jane bake surreptitious mountains of sponge cake. Small

tributes of cream, butter, pies of various name and model, awaited

him at different stopping-places, and were handed him by fair hands

with flattering smiles. The Almira of whom Nabby discoursed with such

energetic vehemence had knit Hiel a tippet, worked his name on a

pocket-handkerchief with her hair, and even gone so far as to present

him with one of the long yellow curls which Nabby was pleased to call

"stringy." Nabby's curls certainly could not have merited any such

epithet, as every separate one of them had a will and a way of its

own, and all were to the full as mutinous as their mistress. Yet Hiel

would have given more for one of those rebellious curls than for all

Almira's smooth-brushed locks, and although a kiss from Nabby was

like a kiss from one on an electric stool, snapping and prickling at

every touch, yet somehow the perverse Hiel liked the excitement of

the shock.

Hiel's tactics for the subjugation of a female heart were in the

spirit of a poet he never heard of:

"Pique her, and soothe in turns;

Soon passion crowns thy hopes."

He instituted a series of regular quarrels with Nabby, varied by

flattering attentions, and delighted to provoke her to anger, sure

that she would say a vast deal more than she meant, and then, in the

reaction which is always sure to follow in the case of hot-tempered,

generous people, he should find his advantage.

So, when the stars looked out blinking and winking through a

steel-blue sky, Nabby, in the fascinating new bonnet, was handed

into the smart new sleigh, tucked in with Hiel under a profusion of

buffalo robes, and went jingling away. A supper and a dance awaited

them at a village tavern ten miles off, and other sleighs and other

swains with their ladies were on the same way, where we take our

leave of them to follow our little Dolly into the parlors of the

_haute noblesse_.

Poganuc People: Their Loves and Lives · 第 11 / 41 章